


Minnie’s Will To Live: the fic

by selenomancy



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: IT'S NOT OLD MX ... it's ymx. i love myself thanks, you get to ride ymx's face yay :)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-04
Updated: 2019-03-04
Packaged: 2019-11-09 04:50:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17995178
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/selenomancy/pseuds/selenomancy
Summary: you get to ride ymx's face, and the two of you don't know how to fucking behave: the remix.





	Minnie’s Will To Live: the fic

**Author's Note:**

> dedicated to rabies squad -- i love y'all too much. ♡ there's probably mistakes here but i'm too tired to read it over, and it's currently ... 2:18 am.

    “It  _ seems  _ like it’s all you’re good for,” you grumble, eyes rolling as you situate yourself over his face, thighs on opposite sides of his head. Xehanort’s irritated front is so obviously forced — he’d  _ never  _ act anything less unless you were on top. “I haven’t heard you complain  _ once _ ,” he snaps back, golden eyes almost shimmering in the low light. “You talk as if I  _ ever  _ leave you anything less than satisfied.” At that, you can’t help but to  _ laugh _ .

  
    His fingers grasp your hips, pulling you close and nipping your inner thigh before pressing his lips against you, eliciting a shaky sigh. You can’t deny that he’s  _ shamefully  _ good with his mouth, and the moans that tumble from your lips as a testament to that. His tongue flicks at the right places, pushing in just to tease you — you thread your fingers through his snowy locks, tugging just a bit. He shivers, a pleased hum sending heat straight down your spine. “ _ X-Xehanort _ ,” you gasp — his fingers grasp your hips a bit tighter at the way you say his name, his eyes closed in concentration as he works at you. Your hips rock against his face, searching for  _ more  _ friction,  _ more  _ pleasure — just  _ more  _ of him, and it drives you insane that he won’t speed up and give you just what you want. 

 

    “ _ Fuck _ ,” you hiss, frustrated as your free hand runs through your own locks. “Could you  _ please _ pick up the pace?” At that, his eyes open, a glare aimed right up at your flushed face. His tongue presses flat against you, then flicks once, then twice at a place that makes your hips grind against him. “Here?” he asks, and you swear that his voice has dropped an octave, faux-innocence practically dripping from it. “Maybe … if you  _ deserved  _ it.” You know you’re only feeding his ego with the way how you shudder, but your habitual stubbornness doesn’t let him get the full satisfaction. “You talk _ too much,  _ y’know,” you sneer, pressing yourself against his wet lips, and he takes it fully in stride, heated glare focused on how you push your shirt up to touch your chest, at how you pinch your nipple and sigh when he fucks you with his tongue.

 

    For all his big talk, he doesn’t disappoint you, especially at the show you give him. His lips feel  _ heavenly  _ against you, and a pleasant warmth begins to grow hotter and hotter as minutes tick by -- it leaves your thighs  _ trembling _ , and you feel his restraint begin to grow more and more slack by how his fingertips dig into your soft skin. “I-I’m close,” you stutter out, the grip on his hair tightening, and he  _ moans--  _ it’s such a  _ hot  _ sound, to hear him become so undone just by making  _ you  _ feel good, that you bite your lip without even noticing it. “ _ Beg for it _ ,” he murmurs against you, touch featherlight for the moment, and you’re so close to what you want the most, but you still wonder if he deserves getting what he wants so easily. 

 

    “And maybe I’ll let you cum.” Oh.  _ Oh. _ Fuck being stubborn. 

 

    “Please, Xehanort,” you whimper, voice shaking. “Please,  _ please  _ let me cum …!” For all his talk, he doesn’t deny you, tongue working you feverishly, your hips losing their rhythm as you tumble over the edge, calling out his name in a broken moan as he brings you through your orgasm. As soon as you calm down, you pull away, flopping onto the spot next to him, chest heaving. Through half-lidded eyes, you watch him lick his lips clean, before he moves closer to you, brushing your messy hair from your face. You can taste yourself on his tongue when he kisses you, and you sigh softly into it when he bites you lip. He’s moved on top of you, leg pressed between your thighs, breath fanning out against the crook of your neck as he whispers into your ear.

  
    “My turn,  _ hm? _ ”


End file.
